A Sense of Duty
by LittleLotte17
Summary: If the only way to save what was left of her family was to lay with the devil himself, well…she was just going to have to deal with it in any way she could. She found the resolve within herself hardening. She would do this.
1. Chapter 1

Rated M because I don't like the idea of censoring my work. Also, there will be "illicit relations" later on...so if you don't like it, don't read it.

Disclaimer: If I owned CCS it would have ended with a KISS!

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Sakura Kinomoto was cold. Despite the several layers of expensive silks that were securely fastened around her petite form, her heart remained completely devoid of all warmth. She kept her eyes resolutely down cast, focusing only on the bouquet of flowers tightly clenched in her small pale hands as a tall man with long trailing white hair escorted her down the aisle of the large and crowded cathedral.

She frowned as she stared into the soft pink of the roses that she held viciously within her grasp. She hated roses. They were far too typical for her taste. She had always wanted her wedding bouquet to be a mixture of cherry blossoms and nadeshiko flowers. Not that anyone had bothered to ask her. Everyone knew that this whole wedding was a gigantic, over done and frankly gaudy sham; done only to keep up appearances. There wasn't a single person present who didn't know what she was really doing. This had nothing to do with giving her life to that horrible man. The minute she signed her name to the marriage document she would be handing him the life of every person who looked to her and her family for leadership. She was signing away the rights to her kingdom.

The long cold fingers that had been keeping her elbow in their firm vice-like grip suddenly vanished and she immediately halted her languid and heavy footsteps. Her jade eyes flickered to a pair of dark leather boots approaching her and she slowly looked up into the face of a young man in his late teens as he carefully lifted the extravagantly long and lacy veil away from her face and took her hands before the high priest.

Sakura tried not to flinch at the feel of her small delicate hands encased roughly in his large calloused ones. She had intended to resume the inspection of her fingernails and the hem of her no doubt staggeringly expensive wedding apparel, but found herself trapped in the gaze of her soon-to-be husband's eyes.

She had been surprised to see that he didn't look like the moronic muscle-bound meathead that she assumed he would be. He was tall and lithe with broad shoulders and a tapering waist, not that a good physique was going to win her over. The simple gold coronet that sat on his brow amidst the locks of dark heavy hair that fell haphazardly into his eyes was a symbol to the world that he was her equal; a crown prince.

Sakura snorted inwardly at that thought. That any of the pigs here were even worthy of the task of licking the dirt from her or her family's shoes was laughable. This was a country full of bloodthirsty savages. There was no doubt in her mind that the very same strong warm hands that held hers had bathed themselves in the blood of countless numbers of her countrymen.

So what if he was ruggedly handsome? Who cared about a chiseled jaw line or the muscles that gently bulged beneath his immaculate dark green robes? It was shallow people like that who would probably notice how his eyes were the same color as amber when the sun shines through it, but not her.

No, all Sakura could see in the depths of those eyes was his complete lack of remorse and shame. He wasn't properly humiliated by what his father was forcing them into like any person with a beating heart should be. In fact, his entire demeanor was rigid and stoic. This was not a man. She wondered if he even had a pulse. She loathed this creature with every fiber of her being, but this was all she could do to save her people from certain death. If the only way to save what was left of her family was to lay with the devil himself; well…she was just going to have to deal with it in any way she could.

She found the resolve within herself hardening. She would do this. She would live with this unfeeling man in this god awful place and fulfill her duties as his wife, even if the very thought sickened her. No one would be able to say she had brought shame to her family. She would make her father proud in the only way that was left to her. And when the wizened cleric finally came to the question she had been dreading, she looked fiercely into her betrothed's unwavering gaze and said, "I do."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter two, here for you!

Rated M because I don't like the idea of censoring my work. Also, there will be "illicit relations" later on...so if you don't like it, don't read it.

Disclaimer: If I owned CCS I would now be fabulously wealthy!...and probably a much better artist. XD

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Xiao Lang cast a wary eye at the girl whose arm was stiffly entwined in his. She hadn't uttered a single word since she had spat out her vows like venom at his feet. When she had given him that blazing look at the alter he thought he was pledging his life to a fiery hellcat who would not be satisfied until she had screamed all her fury at him and ripped his eyes out with her claws.

Yet, she had remained silent as the grave throughout the celebratory feast and the ball that followed, making no query or complaint even when she was required to dance with her new husband. She had merely allowed him to lead her out onto the floor and then stared blankly into his chest as she mindlessly preformed the steps necessary to free herself from his grasp and return to the safety of her chair as quickly as possible.

In fact, if he hadn't seen her eyes as she said her "I do's" he would have thought her completely indifferent to the marriage. His mother had been right to warn him about the less than friendly response he would receive from his bride. Because he had seen it: the pure unbridled hatred burning in her eyes. Her beautiful jade green eyes.

And now it was well past midnight and he was walking arm and arm with this dainty woman who abhorred every inch of him and leading her to his private quarters. He wondered ruefully if he had done something as of late that would cause his ailing father to want him dead. This girl didn't seem like an assassin with her smooth pale skin and her long auburn hair framing her face in gentle ringlets, but as a Li, he had to be prepared for anything. Married or not, she had been the enemy and even if a measly scrap of paper said that she belonged to him, he somehow didn't think that would stop her if she wanted to take a shot at him.

There was an awkward pause when they reached the door to his bed chamber, but it was broken when the girl took a cautious and yet somehow defiant step away from him and swiftly untangled her arm from his. He gave a small apathetic shrug at her mulishness before holding the door open politely so that she could enter the rooms that they would be sharing from now on.

His gentlemanly gesture duly brushed off, he turned to lock the door behind them only to notice his bride watching him intently, a look of slight anger, immense disgust, and perhaps even a sliver of fear flashing in her wide expressive eyes. He felt his ire rising; what right did she have to look at him as if he were the devil incarnate? He hadn't even _done_ anything to her yet. Not one raised hand or slander had been sent her way, even though her country had been at war with his for at least twenty years and he would be lying if he said that he didn't resent her as the choice for his wife, but at least he didn't look at her like _that! _It was as though she thought he was an animal; worth less than the dirt at her pretty little feet.

"What?" He found himself almost snapping at her. At first he thought he would get no reply; she simply continued glaring at him, but then she suddenly seemed to find her voice.

"Is that so I can't escape while you are sleeping?" she asked, gesturing to the locked door at his back.

"Were you planning to?" he replied; the shock and anger at such a question evident in his voice.

"Of course not, as a princess it is my duty to-"

"Then, no." he cut her off. "I happen to like my privacy and I don't enjoy servants or anyone else barging into my room at all hours of the day or night."

"Oh. I see…" came her somewhat deflated response.

After another minute or so of uncomfortable silence filling the space between them as they both tried in vain to look at anything but their spouse, Xiao Lang decided that he had had enough.

"It's late," he stated, trying to sound gentle, "we should be getting to bed." Without another word, he turned from her and removed the ceremonial sword from around his waist and pulled the coronet from his brow, dropping them carelessly onto his dresser. It was when he began fumbling with the ties on his robes that he heard it; the sound of quietly hissing silk as it slid to the floor. He thought nothing of it, or at least he tried to, but he could feel the heat rising in his face and suddenly his fingers were having a much harder time removing his outer robes.

She would be the first woman to undress herself in his room, the first to lie in his bed, and he supposed that since they were now wed, she was likely to be the last. It wasn't that he lacked interest, he could appreciate a pretty face and a full figure as well as the next man, but there never really seemed to be time for something as frivolous as bedding some silly woman when the country was at war and he was busy traveling from place to place building new alliances and maintaining old ones.

Women were merely distractions, he reminded himself as he sat on the edge of his bed to remove his boots. This one would be no different. He would have to steel himself for further barrages of her stubbornness and hate, and most likely, her whining too. There was a slight shuffling sound, like bare feet padding tentatively across the carpet, and Xiao Lang shook himself from his thoughts to glance up at the most distracting sight he had ever seen.

His new wife stood brazenly before him clothed in nothing but moonlight.


	3. Chapter 3

AN: Thanks to everyone who sent me reviews! You make me want to write more, faster. Alas, the chapters will stay relatively short until the couple have more to react to than just each other, but that will be changing fairly soon, so please be patient!

Rated M for the usual reason things get rated M.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own any CCS characters.

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Sakura was sure that she had never been so embarrassed in her entire life. She fought to keep her posture looking confident as she endured her husband's gaze. She clenched her hands at her sides hard enough to make grooves in her palms from her fingernails, even though all she wanted to do at the moment was to use her arms as shields from his piercing stare and flee the room as well as him.

She had been surprised when he had turned from her to prepare for bed. She was expecting to be grabbed callously and used as an object of his pleasure; undoubtedly as many a young girl before her. Yet, after a brief flash of anger, he had receded back into his shell and continued to take about as much interest in her as a piece of furniture. Not that she was particularly aching for his attentions, but something about his general disregard for her presence made her feel as though he must be up to something.

Although she disliked listening to anything he had to say, she had no other plan of how to occupy her time, and so she had began to prepare for sleep. She lifted each slender leg, one at a time, and joyfully pulled the fashionably uncomfortable shoes from her aching feet; whilst always keeping a wary eye on the back of the suspicious figure who was absorbed with the removal of the ornamental blade at his side. It was while she was removing the numerous pins that bound her hair that she realized what surely must be his plan. He wanted to catch her when her defenses where down, so as to inflict the most damage. If she only had spiteful thoughts for him, surely he could have nothing but the same for her, and wish to somehow punish her for the damages paid to Bai Hu* from her own country.

Well, she would not allow it! She could not prevent such an attack in the future, with him being several inches and pounds larger than her, but this time, the first time, the choice would be hers. She refused to give him the satisfaction of stealing something else from her.

Decision made, she swiftly tore what remained of her garments off her body, not caring much if they survived her assault, and softly padded towards him and her fate.

And that was how Sakura discovered that his face was indeed capable of showing emotion. She had never seen someone looked so shocked at anything. He was completely immobilized, hands stilled poised to pull off his remaining boot, his mouth slightly agape, and his brown eyes wide as dinner plates as they stared at her openly. She would have found it amusing if she wasn't feeling so utterly humiliated and slightly terrified.

In her mind she had imagined herself boldly seducing him and somehow using it as a means of bending him to her will, but she found herself incapable of touching him. There were still two years before her eighteenth birthday and true adulthood. She was still meant to be innocent and pure; no one had ever explained much to her about sex. The only man she had ever kissed was her father and the only intimacy with men her brother Touya had ever allowed was some timid hand holding, and even that was only on special occasions.

Sakura groaned inwardly, she had not thought this through. How was a scrawny virgin like her supposed to tame a man who had slept with several other partners who all possessed more experience and, more than likely, a much bigger bust line? Standing here in the dark on tremulous legs with goose bumps rising on her arms, she felt it unlikely that she could tempt any man to be her lover.

There was a shift in the shadows and Sakura was pulled from the downward spiral of her thoughts by the figure of her spouse looming over her. The astonishment from only moments ago had vanished from his face, taking with it any thought of this situation being amusing. The silhouettes cast about the room painted strange shapes across his features, making them seem menacing, and there was something dark clouding his eyes that scared her. She had seen that look from men before; a wicked sort of _hunger_. Back then she had simply smiled at them gently and ignored the uncomfortable twitch in her stomach; she had been safe. But now she was the little rabbit out in the field at night looking gaily up at the moon, only to see an owl with outstretched talons. She felt the panic rising in her chest and took an instinctive step away.

It was to no avail, he simply closed the gap between them with a stride of his own and she found herself trapped once more. Realizing there was no escape; Sakura took a deep breath and tried to calm the frantic beating of her heart. She reminded herself that this had been her plan from the start. She reasoned that just because she didn't know how to start things off didn't mean she couldn't take control once she learned the rules of the game.

He reached out to her slowly with one hand, treating her like the little frightened animal she was. She held as still as she possibly could and fixed her gaze on the strip of tanned flesh laid bare by his partially opened shirtfront, knowing that if she watched his approaching fingers she would be far too tempted to flinch away.

Despite her best efforts, unbidden memories flooded her mind. She thought of the way her father smiled at her, beaming with pride. She recalled the sound of her brother's mischievous laughter after making a joke at her expense. She could see her mother's eyes, so full of love, as she told her good night. Sakura's heart began to ache. There was another pair of eyes she longed for.

She sealed shut her emerald pools; maybe if she couldn't see him she could pretend his hands were the ones she was wishing for. Slender and pale, they would trace the angles of her face tenderly, as she had always imagined they would. Everything about the man before her would melt into softness. His mouth would form that familiar smile; so gentle and encouraging. His honey eyes would glow warmly with affection. He would hold her to him and whisper how he had always loved her and she could lose herself in the joy of his arms.

But even with her eyelids pressed firmly shut, she could still sense the presence of the fingertips that hovered mere millimeters from her skin and knew they were not Yukito's. Every fiber of her being cried out against this. This was not what she wanted. Not with this man. _Never_ with this man. She felt a single tear escape the barricade of her eyelids, the loudest cry her soul could muster, and land like a fallen star at her feet.

She braced herself for the imminent brush of her prince's calloused hand like a condemned prisoner waiting for the ax to fall. Yet, the seconds passed and turned into minutes which quickly stretched out into what seemed like an eternity and still he did not touch her.

Curiosity eventually got the better of her and she opened her eyes to find the space her husband had been standing suddenly vacant. He was sitting on the far side of the bed and facing away from her. He must have felt her gaze, because he suddenly pulled his undershirt off over his head, further ruffling his already unruly hair. Sakura tensed at the thought that he might be stripping down too. Though she couldn't deny that there was something beautiful about the way the muscles of his back knotted together as he moved.

"I believe your night clothes have been laid in the chair near the door." He murmured. His voice was so low that if there had been any other noises in the room she didn't think she would have heard it. It was strange, but Sakura thought that there was something defeated in the way he slumped there in the dark. It was stranger still that she felt an impulsive urge to comfort him somehow.

Quickly shaking _that_ madness from her head, she made her way to a comfortable looking chair and sheepishly pulled on the simple night dress that the servants had left out for her. By the time she turned back towards the bed, her husband had already buried himself beneath the covers. As she approached her side of the bed, she felt something close to hurt bubble up inside her as she realized that she had been rejected point-blank. He had appraised her body from head to toe and found her wanting.

Sakura quietly slipped beneath the cool bed sheets and curled tightly into herself. In sixteen years of having her own spacious room to herself, she had never felt as alone as she did sharing this place with her new bedfellow. Hugging her knees to her chest and trying to take up as little space as possible, she was a lost sailor adrift in a vast and empty sea. The shores of sleep called out to her with promises of warm familiar faces that looked at her lovingly. She answered readily; glad to escape the thoughts of her reality and drown herself in dreams.

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AN: Me again! here to fill you in on that curious * you saw. **Bai Hu** is the name of a Chinese constellation. Anyone who is a fan of Yuu Watase's Fushigi Yuugi will recognize it as the white tiger of the west, Byakko. I wanted to use something in reference to the stars and in Chinese, so this seemed to fit the bill nicely.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Hello again! Here is chapter 4, it took me a little longer because it is a little longer, and because I was sorta fighting with it towards the end. Chapter 5 should be fairly long (for me) so it will probably take me a lot longer than my previous ones. So once again I must thank those who gave me reviews, ask for your patience....and hope that you aren't grumpy with me at the end of this chapter.

I hope you know by now that this is M rated.

Disclaimer: The characters aren't mine, the story is.

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There was a sharp crack and suddenly Xiao Lang found himself instinctively rolling away from his assailant, clutching desperately at his nose with both hands, while attempting to stifle a pain-filled groan. In his baffled state of half sleep, he was completely at a loss as to how he had been punched in the face in the middle of the night. As the pain dulled, his wits sharpened and he remembered the woman who he was sharing his bed with.

"_So, the Kinomoto girl was an assassin after all_," he thought to himself as he gingerly prodded at his wounded nose to check for any signs of breakage. Now that he was awake, he could feel her moving around on the opposite side of the mattress. He wondered if he had done something to provoke this attack. Could he have unknowingly groped her in his sleep?

He had been trained to sleep in a variety of uncomfortable places in which movement could cost you your life, let alone an aching back. Once, he had asked his mentor, Yue, why a prince was being made to spend his nights along the edges of cliffs or in tree branches, but his only reply had been a facial twitch that betrayed a suppressed smile, and a statement that it was "character building."

However, Xiao Lang had never had to share a sleeping space, especially not with someone who looked so soft to cling to. It was something he had no defenses against, and thinking on it now, it seemed like a rather grievous flaw in his education. He had wanted to touch her so badly earlier that he thought he must have gone insane. He wasn't sure what would have happened if his fingers had caressed her face as they were so longing to do. He had just wanted some kind of physical proof that she was really there, in all her timid ethereal beauty, and not some kind of mirage woven from the lack of sleep and moonlight.

And then she had cried. He had seen that, despite her initial fierceness, she was apprehensive about baring herself to him, but he had fooled himself into thinking that he could find a way of soothing her worries, and possibly even alleviating some of her hatred towards him. But that single tear had put a halt to all of his heroic and selfish notions. The very thought of him touching her was enough to make her weep. He had never made a girl cry before; it made him feel brutish and filled him with shame for things he had not even done. There was a part of him that wanted to hold her even more at seeing her distress, but instead he had retreated into the corner of his own room like a whipped dog and buried his face in his hands.

He was called away from his musings and the slight throbbing of his nose by a sharp strike to his left shoulder and the sound of a distraught whimper. This was ridiculous; he knew he had done nothing to warrant _this_ assault, he turned towards her to tell her off. This war between them could be limited to the daytime hours. However, his tirade was stillborn when he actually saw his wife and registered that something was horribly wrong.

Her limbs where flailing wildly, pleading whines ripped from her throat, and she was covered with perspiration as she fought frantically with some demon he could not see. Her face was contorted with fear and there where tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. As he watched with growing apprehension, her soft moans grew into a high pitched wail and she began to tear at everything within reach, including herself.

"THERE'S BLOOD!" she screamed, "BLOOD EVERYWHERE! IT WON'T COME OUT! IT WON'T COME OUT! MOTHER! MOTHER!"

Xiao Lang was struck dumb with horror and found himself completely at a loss as to how calm her. He realized that he felt protective of her; she was "his" after all. Didn't that mean he was supposed to take care of her? Even if she was annoying and misleading and infuriating, it was his duty as her husband to make sure she stayed safe. And yet, here he was, wide eyed and helpless, as her nightmare tore her to pieces.

Before he could reconsider what he was about to do, he reached out to her with strong arms and pulled her to him. At first this only increased her panic and she lashed out against him, her nails leaving long red welts in their wake, but a few scratches would not deter him from his task. With one large square palm, he gently pressed her head into his shoulder, while his other hand smoothed its way up and down her spine, subconsciously following the same trails that his mother and so many others had traveled to soothe the heartaches of generations of crying children. Now that she was tucked safely beneath his chin, he began to pacify her muffled sobs for her mother with soft shushing sounds. Slowly, she coiled into him, her tensed muscles relaxing to lean heavily into his welcoming embrace. But only when her labored breathing ebbed into the deep breaths of a peaceful sleep, did Xiao Lang release a long sigh of relief.

He had heard that Nadeshiko Amamiya had died shortly before the treaty between Amaterasu* and Bai Hu had been arranged, and consequently, his wedding to her daughter, but the details of her death had not been conveyed to him. He received little word of the Amaterasu royal family's doings, since he was never there on business and all the news involving battles and strategies was sent directly to his father and shared with almost no one else. He had been on a diplomatic mission with Yue when he had received the letter from his father that summoned him home to marry the princess of the enemy, and his father was not one to tell him things he deemed unimportant. Therefore, Xiao Lang had concluded that there was nothing noteworthy about the queen's demise, but in light of his wife's recent night terror, he was beginning to think that this was not the case at all.

A fatal disease would have taken longer, and rumors of it would surely have been circulating in the courts of other countries; he would have heard about it. An accident was plausible, but it all just seemed a little too convenient. Tradition stated that, in Amaterasu, the throne must pass to the eldest female of the Amamiya bloodline and with the passing of the queen, the next in line was her young, eligible, and vulnerable daughter. It was too simple; she would rule her kingdom and, in accordance with their treaty, he in turn would rule her. He had a nagging suspicion that, for reasons he couldn't fathom, he had been purposely kept in the dark about something important.

He glanced down at the girl sleeping serenely in his arms and felt the return of a nameless guilt. There was something deep within the burning emerald fury of her eyes that told him that the death of her mother was no accident. He winced inwardly at the thought of her waking while in his arms; she would likely give him far worse than a punch in the nose. He could already see the laughter in Yue's eyes when he found out that the man he had trained to endure blistering cold and scorching heat, a prince who was well know for prowess in both physical and mental battles, blanched at the anger of a sixteen year old girl.

He rolled onto his back and pulled his arms away from her, not without regret, in an attempt to avoid the inevitable explosion that would happen if she discovered that he had defiled her precious self with his dirty hands while she was sleeping. She simply would not have it. Displeased with her sudden lack of human pillow, she let out a low mumble of discontent and rolled over until his shoulder once more cradled her head. Xiao Lang stiffened in what might have been fear and made to push her gently off of him, but she must have anticipated this, because before he had so much as raised an arm to move her, she had wrapped him up in an almost fierce hug and flung one long slender leg across his hips, daring him to escape her.

He was now stiff with more than just fear. It was impossibly cruel of her to be teasing him with things that he knew she would never give him, and somehow, the fact that she was doing it unintentionally, made it even more evocative. Outside of a few random attacks from his overly touchy cousin, he had never been embraced by a woman, and certainly never this intimately. He flushed deeply at the proximity of her creamy thigh to his "other self" and was unsure whether to hope for her stillness or pray that she would shift her leg down those few tantalizing inches.

He refused to let himself be overcome by such base desires, so he clenched his jaw, shut his eyes, and focused on calm nerves and even breathing. Once he was confident that he was once again the master of his hormones, he decided to take this opportunity to observe his princess without her glaring daggers at him.

He saw that her face was a soft heart shape, with her cheekbones budding softly into prominence through the last remnants of baby fat left from her ascent into womanhood. He ran his fingers through the long soft hair that spread about them in disarray, causing her to shift slightly and reveal a pale shoulder that had been released from the confines of her nightdress. The nakedness of her shoulder reminded him of other things that had been exposed earlier.

He had been hypnotized by her slim silhouette framed by the heavy autumn-colored locks that fell to the backs of her knees. He had expected her to look like a flower, soft and easily wilted, but despite her willowy limbs, she was lean and muscular, an obvious athlete. He couldn't help but drink her in from the crown of her head, to her small pert breasts, following the line between the muscles of her abdomen all the way down to the junction of her legs where dark curls thatched themselves in modesty to shield her cherished maidenhood from his prying eyes.

These thoughts were fast to encourage his earlier problem, so he turned his attention back to her sleeping face. He admired the way her surprisingly dark and feathery lashes laid against her cheeks and smiled slightly at her delicately gaping mouth, she slept like a little kid. Something was swelling up in his chest; he had no words for this feeling, there was a strange mix of pride and contentment as he listened to her deep rhythmic breathing and felt her heartbeat drumming against his side.

Xiao Lang knew that they could never have a marriage in the true sense of the word, one built on mutual love and understanding, but he found himself daring to hope for some kind of peace with this feisty temptress. They were bound by obligations to spend their lives together, so maybe they could find a way to cobble together their own kind of happiness.

He reached over and swept a few stray strands of hair out of her face and tucked them behind her ear; this gave his fingers an excuse to lightly stroke her cheek in the tender way he had been aching to ever since he had seen her, bashful and bare, as she stood trembling in the light of the moon. She smiled at his caress. A small smile, frail and elusive; it shone in their dark room like a sudden beam of sunlight. Xiao Lang felt the birth of something warm and glowing flutter in his chest.

"Yuki…" she mumbled happily as she gave him an approving squeeze. The smile vanished from his face. There was no one in the royal family by that name. With a single word, the flickering warmth that had just blossomed within him was snuffed out.

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AN: Hey there! Here to tell you about the * again. **Amaterasu** is the Japanese goddess of the sun. Anyone who has played Ookamie (which is totally awesome) will recognize this name. There is also a brief mention/use of the name in CLAMP's Tsubasa as the formal name for Princess Tomoyo's older sister. So, Sakura is the Princess of the Sun, which suits her.


	5. Chapter 5

AN: Phew! That took me a while! I want you all to know that instead of using my spring break to do my homework, like a good kid, I was working on this for you! To all the people who sent me reviews, I once again send you my love, so if you feel a sudden warm and fuzzy sensation, don't be alarmed. I also wanna take the time to thank the people who have been favoriting this story and adding it to their alerts, you make me smile. Alright, on with the story!

This is rated M! you have been warned.

Disclaimer:I'm not making money off of this, so no one get mad or sue me please!

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Sakura awoke to an empty bed and the golden beams of a mid morning sun pouring into the room. Both of these things lifted her spirits considerably from where they had sunk the night before. A quick glance confirmed that her spouse was not in the room and, with any luck, he was absent from their adjoining rooms as well. She meant to do some exploring today. Perhaps, even in the heart of the country that had fought for years to destroy hers, there might be a place she could find solace when the company of her 'beloved husband' was too much for her.

Since no one was there to scrutinize her, she happily tumbled out of bed in her usual manner. Touya had always told her teasingly that she woke up like a new born foal, with gangly limbs flapping everywhere as she desperately tried to find her footing. Sakura's tart reply was that he was always lumbering around like a drunken bear or, when she was feeling particularly gracious, she would simply stomp heavily on a few of his toes and listen to the satisfying grumble about how she was a monster as he limped away.

Now that it was properly lit, she saw that the room she stood in was the deep green of a shady forest; the furniture was all made from dark, rich-looking wood, and the floors and drapes where a heavy cream color. There wasn't much in the way of ornamentation, and everything was almost disturbingly clean. She noticed a vanity tucked into the corner nearest to her side of the bed and was slightly shocked to see that all of her grooming supplies where already neatly arranged there and waiting for her. She inspected the nearby dresser to find her clothes carefully folded and found herself understanding why her husband locked the door at night.

It wasn't as though the Amaterasu royal family didn't have and use servants, but there was a limit to what you really needed help with. She had packed most of her things for this move with little to no assistance and had always been in charge of putting away her own clothes. She shuddered to think that someone might be coming to help her dress herself and do her hair, she had put up with it for the wedding, but as a general rule she disliked being pampered and pawed at.

The likely cause of this was her good friend and distant relation, Tomoyo, who was the princess of the neighboring country Tsukiyomi and had been dressing Sakura up and parading her around the grounds at whoever's palace they happened to be at for as long as they had know each other. Tomoyo's designs where always a frightening conglomeration of ribbons, lace, and cumbersome flounces, and nothing but the immense fondness she felt for her friend could ever have forced Sakura into them.

Grabbing her hairbrush from the vanity, she began the arduous task of removing the tangles from her lengthy locks as she padded her way towards the door to the neighboring room. She opened the door just wide enough to poke her head through hesitantly, lest she discovered someone there and needed to make a hasty retreat. However, she was once again blessed with vacancy and flung the door wide as she strolled boldly into the room.

It was some sort of study, with dozens of towering bookcases lining the walls, each one filled to the brim with ancient-looking documents and thick dusty tomes. If the bedroom had been a forest, this place was the sea at night. Everything was cool blues and silver edges that glinted softly in the sun that peeped through the foam white curtains. The dark wood of the furniture seemed like ships bobbing in the waves. Against the wall opposite where she had entered there was a large desk strewn with what looked like letters. Sakura was immediately drawn to it; she found it refreshing to come across something that seemed out of order in this disturbingly sterile place.

The letters and documents where all written in a rounded steady hand and in a vast array of languages and, against her will, Sakura found herself greatly impressed; to her mother's despair, she had never been good with languages. She was fine with vocabulary and grammar, but her accent was heavy and she always struggled to remember the various symbols and letters for writing.

Once again attracted to the most noticeably chaotic, Sakura picked up the lone sheet of paper that was covered in blots and cross outs. She was surprised to find that it was written in her native tongue, although sloppy with frustration, and with a little effort she could make out the message that seemed to be troubling her husband.

"_When I am lost, I search for comfort. I follow my beloved memories into the horizon…"_

Outside of being a somewhat tender sentiment, Sakura was completely baffled as to its significance. And yet, here it was, repeated over and over with only a slight variation in the words or phrasing. She felt as though she had found a clue to seeing past her spouse's stony exterior, but she lacked the tools to properly decode it.

Her curiosity concerning her husband's scribbles was fast to wane, and was quickly overshadowed by her desire to investigate more of their living quarters. She placed the blotched paper down in what she vaguely supposed was the spot she had found it in, and made her way through the entrance into the third and last of their rooms.

Sakura let out a gasp, it was perfect. It was a sitting room, intended for entertaining intimate guests and possibly for quiet, solitary meals. Everything was rich golds and yellows, with red accents and cherry furniture, the entire place seemed to exude warmth and cheerfulness.

It was almost the same feeling she got when she helped her mother tend to the flowers in their garden. She sat down on a dusky red couch near the center of the room and ran her hand along the smooth cushions beside her, wishing that empty space could be filled by the woman who introduced her to the world and everything she loved.

She felt her heart sinking back into the gloom of last night. The tears welled up in her eyes and all she wanted in the entire universe was her mother's soft arms to smother her in their embrace and the dark floral-scented curtain of her wavy hair to bury her face in; the only place Sakura had ever felt she could safely unveil all the sorrows that weighed upon her soul.

She pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms about her legs, the better to cage her grief, but as she did so one of her feet knocked into the nearby coffee table and she heard something heavy clatter to the floor. Sakura looked down with red-rimmed eyes to find that the object she had disturbed was a sword.

She wiped at the tears that were still streaming down her face and got out of her seat to retrieve the weapon. It was nothing like the one her husband had been wearing at their wedding, it was a thick blade with a long sturdy hilt, but it was still light enough to be wielded with one arm. Sakura held it delicately; she knew her way around swords, though they were not her weapon of choice. The black padding of the hilt was worn from use, but the blade itself was still as sharp as if newly forged and it was polished in a way she would have described as "lovingly".

As she looked down at the weapon in her hands, she saw the sadness of her green eyes staring back at her. The same eyes she had inherited from her late mother; the same eyes she had watched as the life quickly drained from them to pool like the blood at her feet.

Due to the hasty nature of her wedding, Sakura had left her home the day after her mother's death. She had been given no time or opportunity to mourn her loss. She had missed her own mother's funeral, and although she knew it was the right thing to do in order to secure the safety of her people, it still made her feel like an undutiful daughter.

But she could remedy that with the very instrument she held in her hands. Though a bit old fashioned, it was a traditional sign of mourning to cut your hair. She held up an auburn lock in one hand and began slicing at it with the other. She could not save her mother, but she could give her this last farewell and show the world how much Sakura had loved her. She made no attempt to halt the tears that resumed their journey down her face in ever increasing torrents as she relentlessly hacked at her autumn tresses and allowed the memory of that awful day to overtake her senses.

It had been a breezy spring day and the smell of fresh flowers was gently wafting through the expansive gardens of the Amaterasu palace grounds. Nadeshiko and her daughter were sitting alone in the shade enjoying the infrequent solitude and each other's company. Sakura was hesitantly plucking at a zither-like instrument while her mother sang softly and occasionally corrected her playing.

When they had finally gotten through a song with almost no errors on Sakura's behalf, Nadeshiko stood up to stretch out her legs and smile encouragingly down at her. The smile was returned with the same hundred watt quality that both mother and daughter were famous for. That was when everything went wrong.

The queen's emerald eyes went wide with sudden shock and confusion. A short hacking cough ripped from her throat and Sakura's face was flecked with blood. Nadeshiko raised a shaking hand to her lips and then looked down at her red smeared fingers in dismay. She lifted her gaze to meet the eyes of her petrified daughter, dread and regret shining in her jade pools as more blood poured from her gasping mouth.

The end came soon after; with Nadeshiko's eyes growing dull and lifeless as they rolled back in her skull and she fell into her daughter's waiting arms. It was only then that Sakura saw the black shaft of the arrow protruding from between her mother's shoulder blades.

A dark crimson stain streamed down Nadeshiko's back and the blood flowing from her mouth pooled in Sakura's lap. There were no words for this horror. The pain and devastation that tore at the princess was past comprehension. She could not scream, she could not cry, she could not even find the will to stand and release her mother from her distraught clutches. Because she knew without a doubt that once she removed her hands from her mother's body, it would somehow make this nightmare a reality. If she let go, her mother would never laugh with her again, never teach her all of the old traditional songs like she had promised, never kiss her good night, and never again wipe the tears from her eyes.

Sakura was pulled from her recollections by a strange high-pitched keening sound. It echoed around the sunny sitting room and reverberated through her entire being; the cry of a wounded animal. Something nearby must be dying. It wasn't until she tried to cover her ears and block out the noise that she realized it was coming from herself.

Sakura was once again drowning in a sea of scarlet; the heaps of autumn hair surrounding her echoing the memories of Nadeshiko's blood. The tender white skin of her shoulders and neck were a maze of crimson rivulets from the nicks and cuts of a careless hand. The physical pain of her body was nothing to the anguish in her heart; it was like comparing a dew drop to a thunderstorm. She tangled her fingers roughly through her newly cropped tresses and began to rock back and forth as madness swept over her.

The bright sunlit room she occupied vanished into darkness and all she could see was her husband looming over her. In her frenzied state she watched him smile coldly, arms outstretched to present Sakura with a wedding gift; her mother's limp and bloody corpse. And she screamed. All of her hatred, her frustration, her sorrow, bellowed from her in one unending screech. She had no clue how much time passed, but eventually her body gave in to a wave of numbness and she collapsed, throat raw from grief, unconscious, with tears still rolling down her pallid cheeks.

Sakura's entire body felt like lead and there was something damp and cool against her forehead. It was a chore just to lift her heavy eyelids and observe the young girl who was gently mopping at her brow with a towel. She was still dazed from her previous fainting spell and confused as to who this was, and even where she was. Suddenly, a calm authoritative voice cut through the silence of the room and the haze of her mind.

"You may leave us now." At this command the girl, who Sakura realized must be a maidservant, nodded briefly and left the room without a word. As she watched the maid's retreating form, her eyes fell upon the owner of the voice as they approached her bed confidently.

It was a young woman with a glossy sheet of jet black hair and deep red-brown eyes that seemed almost fierce, though their effect was softened by her small kind smile. The stranger sat down beside the bed in the chair that the servant had just vacated.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, "You have been asleep for quite some time now." Sakura was unsure if or even how to respond. The memories of her mother were still a fresh wound in her mind, and she was feeling especially hostile towards anyone who called Bai Hu "home".

Finally, she was won over by curiosity and forced her aching vocal chords into action.

"…who are you?" Sakura whispered hoarsely.

"Ah. My apologies, I am Meiling, Xiao Lang's cousin. He asked me to check up on you and give you a tour of the palace grounds. I found you on the floor of the sitting room, bleeding and unconscious." Meiling paused to give her a questioning look, but when Sakura gave no answer, she pressed on, "I had you returned to your bed. Your wounds have been tended to and your …_mess_ has been cleaned off the floor." When Sakura still held her tongue, Meiling's ire was visibly raised.

"You are lucky it was I and not Xiao Lang who discovered you. I don't know what would have angered him more: that you touched his sword, an ancient family heirloom passed down for six generations of the Li clan, or that you were using it to mutilate yourself."

"..Syao…ran?" Sakura croaked, puzzlement swimming in her jade eyes. Meiling's face brightened and she broke into a wide grin.

"Aaaaah! The way you say his name is so cute! Your accent is pretty heavy, though. Did he blush when you called him that?" she gushed.

"N-no…" Sakura stammered, flushing slightly. The truth was, that her language skills being what they were, she had been saying his name wrong for years, and for some reason, no one had bothered correcting her. She thought it was Xio Long (Syouron in Sakuraese). As for the wedding, the few times she had been paying attention to her surroundings, everyone referred to her husband as "The Prince" and "His Highness". Coupled with last night's "happenings", she was beyond humiliated; the heiress to the throne of Amaterasu had thrown herself at the feet of a man whose name she did not even know _and_ had been rejected to boot. Sensing her apparent discomfort, Meiling reached out and gently patted her arm.

"I guess last night must have been pretty awkward for you, huh Ying Hua?" she asked. "Was it your first time?"

"What did you call me?" Sakura asked; her humiliation and general confusion making her irritable.

"Oh…" the dark-haired girl flushed slightly, "I thought you were named for that pretty pink spring flower. That's what both Xiao Lang and Auntie Yelan said it was. Did I get it wrong?"

"Sakura," she bit out tersely. "It's pronounced Sakura." She saw the fires dim in Meiling's bright eyes and felt the slightest twinge of shame; this girl had done her no wrong. So, at length she added, "…the meaning is the same though." The smile on her companion's face was instantly renewed and the Princess found herself wondering if this girl was always so obvious about her wildly swinging emotions.

"So, you _are_ a flower!" she exclaimed. "I am too. Meiling means 'plum sprite'. I heard that your whole family is named for flowers. Some people thought that it was strange that even the men would have such weak and womanly names, but I always thought it seemed sweet. What are the other flowers in your family?"

Sakura found herself weakening against Meiling's boisterous kindness and even found a weak smile tugging at the corners of her mouth as she replied hoarsely, "My brother's name is Touya; it means 'peach arrow'. Father's name is Fujitaka, which is the name for a tall growing wisteria. My mother is named for a certain kind of…carnation…her name was…" But the words stuck in her throat. To realize that her mother was forever trapped in a past tense, that she could no longer be beckoned into the present or hoped for in the future was too harsh a reality to dwell on.

"…Nadeshiko?" Meiling finished softly. "I heard about her passing. I am sorry for your loss. Is that why you…" here she gestured to Sakura's newly shorn locks. Receiving a curt nod as her reply her ruby-tinted eyes filled with empathy and she asked in muted tones how the Queen had died.

"How did she die?" Sakura managed to grate out from behind clenched teeth, as fresh anger boiled in the pit of her belly.

"HOW DID SHE DIE?" she bellowed, sitting up fully and pouring rage onto her unsuspecting victim through her emerald irises, "I will tell you how she died! She was _murdered_! Shot in the back within the walls of her own home. Where is the _honor_? Where is the _shame_? How do you and your beast of a cousin find the gall to look me in the face knowing full well that the only reason I am here is because I was blackmailed into it with the knowledge that if I refused, I would hold each member of my family in my arms as they died and watch my people suffer as the rule of my homeland slips away from my bloodline forever? I will tell you how; it is because from your king to his bastard of a son down you're all a bunch of filthy-"

"YOU WILL NOT SAY SUCH THINGS ABOUT XIAO LANG!" The Bai Hu girl roared, her face was pale with what could have been either shock or horror, but the expression in her scarlet eyes was definitely one of an intense anger.

"AND WHO ARE YOU TO TELL ME WHAT I CAN SAY ABOUT ANYONE?" Sakura fired right back at her, panting with rage. Meiling's pretty face darkened like a clear summer sky overrun with storm clouds as she drew herself up to her full height.

"I," she boomed in a voice that demanded respect, "am the daughter of a king! And I will not tolerate you insulting my father or anyone else in my family! You are happy to shun others for their lack of honor and shame; yet, _you_ would stoop to abusing them in their own home while laying in one of the most comfortable beds in the palace and wearing the clothes they placed on your back!"

"How can the King be your father if you are Syaoran's…?" Sakura's eyes lit with a sudden understanding, a smirk that bordered on cruel spreading on her face. "You aren't his cousin at all are you?" The girl in question suddenly seemed rather lost for words as her cheeks burned with embarrassment. "I know that there are four princesses of Bai Hu, all born of lesser wives, and none of them are named Meilin. Which can only mean that you are the daughter of a concubine, or perhaps a prostitute?"

Sakura regretted her heartless words the moment they escaped her lips. Nadeshiko would have been ashamed to call her 'daughter'. She guiltily turned her face away from the girl whom she had practically reduced to a state of tears. Who was the beast now?

There were some loud sniffling sounds, and Sakura struggled to find the proper words to heal the harsh words she had flung in the other girl's face. Her head whipped around at the sound of Meiling's broken voice.

"My mother," she said, in slowly strengthening tones, "was one of the King's mistresses. She was a kind and beautiful woman who had the choice of love and freedom stripped from her. I am sure you can understand the life she must have led. It is a fate that we also must share."

"Is she…?" Sakura asked weakly.

"Yes. My mother has also passed on." She replied softly. Though her ruby-tinted orbs glistened with unshed tears, she couldn't help but smile as the proud princess sitting beside her flung her arms about her neck and sobbed into the collar of her robes.

"I'M SORRY!" she wailed, nearly bursting Meiling's eardrums. "I just feel so lost and helpless here…and…all I find myself wanting is my mother beside me…but I can't _ever_ see her again!"

"Shhh," Meiling said while gingerly patting her companion's back, "Instead of trying to tear each other apart, I am sure our mothers would want us to take care of one another."

"Yes," Sakura sniffled, "I would be honored to become friends with you."

"I think we already are," was Meiling's cheerful reply. Wiping tears away with the back of her hand, Sakura granted her new comrade with her first true smile since the day Nadeshiko had died in her arms. The smile seemed strained and somehow emaciated on her pallid careworn face, but the warmth it exuded was more than enough to evaporate whatever hateful thoughts either girl might have felt towards the other.

"Now, it is high time you got dressed so I can show you around." Meiling said, gently pulling the Princess from the bed and, since Sakura was still somewhat fragile from her earlier loss of blood, steadying her as she made her way towards the dresser. "You will want to wear black today, I presume?" she queried.

Sakura nodded briefly as she rummaged through her clothing in pursuit of something appropriate. When she found what she was looking for she shyly asked her new friend if she minded turning the other way while she changed, to which the other complied without comment. Staring down at the simple black garment as she tied a sash round her waist, her mind was once again drawn to thoughts of her lost loved one.

"How can you do it Meilin?" She asked, "How do you go on when the person who is supposed to guide and comfort you is gone?"

Still facing the other way, Meiling smiled sadly as she answered, "For me, it was not as painful. Well…perhaps that is not true, but…I lost my mother when I was very young. I don't really remember much about her at all. As far as guidance goes, Auntie Yelan, the Queen, has always been particularly good to me, especially when you consider that I am merely one of the King's illegitimate children; she has taught me what it is to be a woman. I think this kindness is largely due to Xiao Lang, because of our comparable ages we were always playmates as children, and his attentiveness has not waned with time. He is a good friend and, although I know you might not want to hear it, he is a good man. I cannot imagine him doing anything underhanded or sneaky; it is simply not his way."

Though it took a huge amount of effort on her part not to answer with a large variety of un-lady-like adjectives to describe just what she thought of her husband, Sakura reminded herself that, despite her unfortunate relations, she truly liked Meiling and was determined to keep her friendship. Having finished changing her clothes, the Amaterisan girl turned her dark-haired companion around by the shoulders, gently took her hands, and heaved a deep sigh.

"You are right." She admitted, "I am not ready to believe that the Prince of the country responsible for my mother's death is a good man, but before today I thought it was impossible for me to find anyone here that I would claim gladly as my friend. Among other things, I thought it would make my mother ashamed of me…"

"I don't bring shame to you?" Meiling asked a little shyly, "Even knowing my lineage?"

"Never!" Sakura exclaimed proudly, "I am the one who should be asking that question. After all of the cruel things I said earlier…Can you forgive me?"

Meiling squeezed her hands and smiled as she answered, "There is no need to forgive words that were said thoughtlessly as a cry of pain. I understand." She paused, searching for something tucked into the corners of Sakura's face, or perhaps in the edges of her now shining smile, "Your Highness, perhaps you think too much about what would make your mother sad…Every mother wants her daughter to find happiness more than anything. Maybe, if you wanted to ease her spirit, you should try to find happiness here, despite your present resentment of the royal family?" Sakura's smile broadened and she shook her head lightly.

"Yes, perhaps you're right," she replied, "but for now I will have to content myself with the joys of having a new friend. Please, call me Sakura." They left the room, still hand in hand, with matching grins, as they set out to explore the palace and its grounds. And for the first time since her arrival, Sakura dared to hope that everything might turn out alright.

* * *

AN: as a closing note, if anyone caught it, Sakura pronounces Meiling as Meilin. This was not a typo on my part; it is like that on purpose, once again referring to her accent. I thought about changing all her Ls to Rs when she says something chineseish, but I figured it would get confusing, so I stuck to what I knew.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: ...After many _many_ months, here it is, chapter six! You would not believe all the crazy things that were happening to both me and my computer to stop this update from happening, but at last your patience has been rewarded! Hopefully I will not need to take so long getting the next one to you, but since school is going to start soon...I can make no promises. Sorry, sorry,a thousand times sorry. Please enjoy!

This is M! If you get mad I'll say I told you so!

Disclaimer:These characters are not mine, the story is.

* * *

Xiao Lang was in the King's personal sitting room, awaiting his father's arrival. It was still fairly early in the day and the royal physician was still performing his now daily check-up on the King's slowly fading health, but the Prince had received a summons during his morning training session, and when Li Jian Bing wanted to see you; you arrived as early as possible and agreed to as much as you could.

Xiao Lang's nerves were on edge, and with good reason. Ill or no, his father was not a man to be trifled with; his wrath was still feared and his orders carried out like words from the divine by everyone from the most pompous over-fed lords in their expensive silks, down to the simplest of the palace servants, and there was no reason to believe he would make exceptions for his children, least of all his son and heir.

Surprisingly, while he had never cared much for his private meetings with his father, it was _not_ the issue that weighed most heavily in his thoughts at the present. He could not erase the image of the Kinomoto girl's sleeping face. It was pasted to his eyelids, waiting to ambush his brain ever time he closed his eyes.

When the gray light of predawn had peeked hesitantly through the bedroom curtains to wake him, as it did every morning, Xiao Lang had opened his groggy amber eyes to discover that Ying Hua had rolled almost entirely on top of him some time in the night. What came as an even greater surprise was the realization that he was actually holding her in place, with one hand gently cradling the nape of her neck while the other kept a firm grip on the back of her left thigh. Blankets discarded, she had become the only warmth he had wanted, and he clung to her fearlessly.

He could feel her little mouth brushing against the side of his neck as her soft warm breath sighed sweetly into his ear like a whispered promise. The gentle swell of her small breasts was pressed against his chest as their hearts seemed to share a single rhythmic beat. She had somehow managed to get her right arm under his neck, so that he was now ensnared within the heavenly noose of her embrace; he was terrified. He didn't want to move, or breathe, or even blink; nothing that might break this spell and bring reality crashing down around them.

All too soon, Xiao Lang's morning obligations had nagged him into attempting a jail break from his bride's loving arms. Using every ounce of stealth in his possession, he rolled them both so that she was lying beneath him and gently pried her small hands from his neck with more than a little remorse. He paused a moment to relapse into what was swiftly becoming a habit of staring at her face while she slumbered; never to know that the man she hated was straddling her hips and thinking some very odd thoughts about her.

He sighed; bringing his hands to his face, only then realizing that he had kept her hands in his after pulling them from his neck. He let them fall as lightly has he could and crept from his own bed like a thief, flustered and embarrassed. This female that he had known for less than twenty four hours had him behaving like a school girl with a crush; the stoic prince was less than equipped to handle these emotions. They were stubborn, confusing, and damn near infuriating…much like the girl herself.

He looked back at the bed just in time to catch another sleeping smile; he liked her. For reasons he couldn't fathom, he was attracted to her. She had courage, a sense of honor, and he even liked her feistiness to an extent. The corners of his mouth turned up ever so slightly; her looks didn't hurt either.

Once again acting before his brain had time to fully register that what he was doing was a bad idea, he stepped back over to his bed and ghosted his lips across her forehead before stealing from the room and heading towards what promised to be a very bad training session, owing to his complete lack of focus.

Thinking back on it now angered him to no extent. Some great man he was, noble enough not to force himself on her when she was awake and capable of rejecting him, but not above pilfering kisses and groping her in the night. It was disgusting, not to mention degrading on his end. He had never paid much attention to them, but there had always been a number of women all too eager to please and fuss over him, so he assumed he must be at least somewhat attractive, though the fact that he was a crown prince might have also had something to do with their favor. But that just made it worse; he was better than this. He found his resolve and felt it harden somewhere in his chest as he vowed to never lose control over himself again. This was just like any other diplomatic mission; if he really wanted any kind of peace with this woman, he had to prove himself worthy of her trust first.

Then the memory of the name she had said in the night returned to him, a whispered prayer for a man he would never be. He felt an irrational dislike for whoever this 'Yuki' character was for ruining what might have been an awkward, but overall satisfying wedding night. If, just for one night, Xiao Lang had been allowed to think himself her hero, his conscience might have been able to forgive the stolen kiss as a well-earned trophy for his triumph over her nightmare. As it was, he felt like an imposter and a letch.

A servant came in, scared to disturb the obviously brooding prince, whose anger was rare, yet terrifying to behold, but not so frightened as to run the risk of delaying the orders of the King and setting loose a fury that was worse then a blow from god himself. He hesitantly told Xiao Lang that his father was now waiting to receive him and begged his pardon numerous times for interrupting what he was sure must have been vastly important thoughts. Glad for the disruption, the prince gave the man a curt nod and strode into his father's bed chamber.

Li Jian Bing had all the marks of a once great man fallen into decay. A tall barrel-chested figure with muscles largely deteriorated to naught but sinew and sagging ashen skin hunched in a pool of silken sheets on his bed. His face was a ghostly echo of his son's, with cheeks sunken from years of sickness and angles sharpened by even more years of bitterness and hate. All that was left of the man he had once been was his regal bearing and the burning spirit flashing in his dark eyes that had most likely been keeping him alive much longer than any medicine ever could have hoped. The expression on his face softened the tiniest bit as his son and heir walked into the room, young and strong, and bowed deeply.

"You sent for me, Your Majesty?" Xiao Lang began, his head still lowered in reverence.

"I have called you here for nothing so formal," Jian Bing replied in his deep somewhat rasping voice, waving a hand impatiently at his son, "you may address me as 'Father'."

"As you wish, Father." Xiao Lang answered while moving to sit in a chair across from his father's bed. "What would you ask of me?" At this, Jian Bing's face broke into a rather lewd grin.

"What do you think boy?" He said in a coarse, but friendly manner, "I am not just the king, I'm your father, and I want to know how it went."

"…how _what_ went?" Xiao Lang replied, a slightly baffled look on his face. "I already gave you my report on the dealings with-"

"No no, you daft boy!" the King interjected irritably, "Are you really my son? The _girl_; how was the _girl_? Caught you a pretty one didn't I? Careful though, if she's anything like her mother, it's likely that she's a whore, though that might have made things better. Was she a good fit? Did she struggle? Or is she the kind who doesn't care what man warms her bed, so long as-"

"No!" Xiao Lang exclaimed, rising suddenly to his feet and feeling the blood rushing to his face from mortification and anger. He had never heard his father speak in such a crass way, and about such a private subject! A sharp glance from the King was enough to reprimand him for the crime of an uncontrolled temper and the sin of interrupting any royal speech, no matter how crude and uncomfortable it had been. He lowered his eyes and forced his jaw to unclench as he made his apologies. "Forgive me, Father. I meant to say, 'No, we…didn't'."

"_Didn't_?" the monarch repeated, his face an unreadable mask, "Didn't _what_?"

"Our marriage remains…unconsummated…at present." Xiao Lang answered falteringly, his face silly with humiliation. He saw the dark clouds gathering across his father's face as he spoke and braced himself for the ferocious torrent of his rage to break upon him.

"I am going to remain calm." Jian Bing growled through gritted teeth. "And my reason for this is my absolute faith in your judgment, Xiao Lang. I trust that you had a _very_ good reason for not bedding that wench as your duty demands. And I also know that you are going to enlighten me as to what that _very_ good reason might be. Right. Now."

The eighteen year old man was suddenly transformed into the little boy who had gotten caught with his hand in the proverbial cookie jar. Hands fumbling nervously in front of him, he looked everywhere but his father's eye as he tried to find the words least likely to get him in worse trouble than he already was.

"S-she…seemed upset." He stammered lamely.

"_Upset_?" The King replied, brows furrowing in growing displeasure.

"Yes." Xiao Lang said, "She was crying. I didn't want to… That is, I thought-"

"No, Xiao Lang! You did not think! That is the last thing that you did, if you managed to do it at all!" His father growled deep in his throat, cutting off his excuses. "Just because a treaty was signed and a wedding was held; it does not mean that our enemies have vanished! Or that they will suddenly stop wishing us ill! _Stupid _boy! The only way to prevent some kind of uprising within our new empire is for you to sire a brat with that little slut, and do it quickly! You know that the Amaterisan nobility are all a bunch or traitors and liars who have no sense of honor! The only thing they cling to is their silly tradition of having a female heir to the throne."

He had to stop his tirade in order to regain his breath. He was quaking with anger and there was a clear threat of death gleaming in his dark eyes. "Need I remind you that if her whore of a mother had kept her word, those lands would have been ours long ago? I don't care if the little bitch is crying, I don't care if she begs you to stop the entire time, and I don't care if you have to tie her down and gag her! You had better get your priorities straight and start bedding that girl _tonight_. And if you won't; I will find someone else of royal blood that would be happy to comply."

At first, Xiao Lang could not even manage to disguise his feelings; he was completely dumbfounded. But as the meaning in his father's words seeped into his brain his demeanor retracted back into its normal appearance of apathy, while a fire slowly heated in his amber orbs. He clenched his hands so tightly, he was amazed that he didn't break his fingers, but miraculously, he managed to give his king a brief agitated bow before excusing himself from the room.

Xiao Lang took long purposeful strides, he needed to find Yue. Steps needed to be taken. This was a child who had never crossed his superiors, who always obeyed without question. But no one, not even his father would threaten what was his. This was completely and totally unacceptable. That peacefully sleeping girl with the gentle face. A girl whose smiles illuminated rooms like sun beams. That sad little girl crying for her mother. Jian Bing was going to have her raped.

It was well past mid-day and Xiao Lang was heading out to the gardens for some much-needed respite after a night of little sleep and a morning filled with far more cares then he had anticipated. He sighed heavily to himself and rubbed his slightly haggard face with his hands for what must have been the hundredth time that day. He never imagined married life would be this difficult.

A soft whine at his feet pulled him from his troubles and brought forth the slimmest of smiles. A great golden hunting dog sat placidly by his side, waiting for him to resume walking. Cerberus; the prince's most loyal subject, looked up at his master with wide intelligent eyes, imploring silently that the large stick in his mouth be thrown so that he might have the immense pleasure of returning it.

Xiao Lang placed a palm on the dog's head and gave it an affectionate ruffle, it might seem cliché, but there was nothing like the bond between a boy and his dog. Only when they were alone together did the prince feel free of the burdens that his birth required. Cerberus too, seemed to only truly enjoy his master's company. No one else could pet or play with him; to all others he was as solemn and serious as a dog could be.

"You are far luckier than you will ever know," Xiao Lang said as he pried the branch from the dog's jaws. "No one is ever going to make _you_ spend every day with a girl who hates you and try to force you to sleep with her until you produce an heir." Cerberus' only reply was a roguish grin and a few joyously booming barks as he circled his master in anticipation.

He wasn't kept waiting long. Xiao Lang flung the stick with a fair amount of force and it disappeared far into the foliage. This gave enormous enjoyment to both the beast, which got to go tearing through the brush after it, and the man who was just happy to know that he could at least please _someone_ today.

Unfortunately, like too many other times that day, Xiao Lang's contentment was short lived. A high feminine shriek cut through the shady forest garden from the very same direction Cerberus had dashed off to. Fearing some foolish new servant had tried to play with him, Xiao Lang raced to the rescue of whatever poor soul had tangled with his best friend.

Sure enough, as he entered the next clearing, he was met with the sight of the large animal hovering over his victim who was thrashing and squealing on the grass. Xiao Lang's heart leapt to his throat; there was only one punishment for an animal that attacked an unarmed human.

"Cerberus!" He called out, his strong voice laced with panic. The dog immediately stopped his assault to turn and look at his master, eyes bright and happy; his tail moving in great, body-swaying wags. This gave his prey the chance to sit up and lightly push the animal off her legs. For the victim was indeed a girl, and one the Xiao Lang had never seen about the palace before, not that he paid much attention to who was hired and fired, his father lost patience with servants often enough that half the time it wasn't worth taking the trouble to remember their names.

Her red-brown hair was cropped boyishly short, but it framed her face in a pleasant kind of way. She wore simple black robes, but the fabric looked expensive; she must be a private maid to one of the ladies of the court. He couldn't see most of her face, as she was busy wiping what he assumed must be dog slobber off of it, but she was giggling in a happy child-like way. The sound of her laughter warmed his heart and he heaved a sigh of relief, but he looked amazedly at his pet, he had never reacted like this to anyone.

"I'm so sorry." He said, "Cerberus usually isn't like this. In fact, he's never like this. He's serious and dislikes almost everyone." The dog in question seemed to know he was being talked about and sat down huffily, looking quite offended.

"Is that so?" She replied, still laughing. "Maybe it's because his name is so formal sounding. You don't seem like a 'Cerberus' at all to me." She held her hands out to the animal and he went to her, tail fanning the air gently. She rubbed fondly at his ears with her hands as he tried in vain to lick at her face again, she seemed lost in thought. At length she said, "I know! You seem much more like a 'Kero'. Do you like that, Kero?" Her reply was a happy, booming bark, to which she beamed and wrapped her arms about his great golden shoulders.

"Well," Xiao Lang said, smiling softly and offering a hand to help her up, "You certainly seemed to have charmed him, my lady."

"Oh, how rude of me!" She exclaimed, taking his hand gratefully, "My name is-", but she stopped suddenly and three things seemed to happen all at once.

As she spoke to him, she had looked up, finally giving the prince a proper view of her face. Jade eyes sparkling and cheeks slightly flushed from laughing, she almost seemed to glow with joy. But it was her sweet true smile the stole the air from Xiao Lang's lungs. A garden long ago…and the sound of children laughing, there was something about that smile that sent his mind hurdling into the past.

It was also in the instant that husband and wife recognized each other at last and discovered that they had actually been getting along, which bought awkwardness to one and mortification to the other. Luckily, Meiling also chose this moment to reappear, face flushed and slightly disheveled; she seemed to have been searching for something frantically.

"Sakura!" She cried in exasperation, "Honestly, I turn my back for a second and you're half way across the grounds!" And with that, the spell was broken; Xiao Lang watched his spouse's eyes harden with dislike as she wrenched her fingers from his, as if burned. Gone was the happy radiance she seemed to emit only moments ago, and the frown on her face was so deep-set and determined that the Prince was sure he must have imagined that angelic smile in some kind of sleep-deprived hallucination. Ying Hua rose to her feet and fussily wiped the dirt from her gown before making a somewhat stiff apology to Meiling.

"I apologize." She said, "I did not mean to wander so far." Meiling was leaning heavily against a nearby tree and breathing hard, almost _too_ hard, but she somehow managed to give the Princess a feeble nod in reply. Xiao Lang rolled his eyes; Meiling was always overly dramatic, milking any chance of attention for all it was worth.

"Meiling," Xiao Lang said with an ice cold edge to his voice, "I thought I made it clear that I wished you to stay with my wife _all_ day. That she was not to be left alone." His cousin flinched at his tone and lowered her head, mumbling apologies under her breath.

"I already admitted that it was I who was at fault!" Ying Hua said hotly; temper flaring in defense of her friend. "And besides that, I do not need to be constantly watched like a small child!" She added with growing fervor. Xiao Lang studied her a minute, deliberating as to how he should caution her from disobeying his wishes without telling her about his father's intentions.

"I gave Meiling specific instructions, which she told me, could and would be followed." Xiao Lang said in his best diplomatic voice, his tone was calm steady, leaving no room for argument. "Therefore, the fault _was_ hers and not yours, but while we are on the subject, I would prefer it if you did not leave our rooms unaccompanied. It would be bothersome if someone had to come and find you every time you got lost until you have learned your way around."

"You are implying that I am incapable of looking after myself! I am a grown woman, I do not need you or anyone else to constantly shepherd me from place to place!" Sakura practically growled at him, while pointing an accusatory finger. Xiao Lang's ire was visibly raised; couldn't the stupid girl figure out that he was just trying to protect her?

"You're wrong, I wasn't implying, I was _telling_ you that you are incapable! I doubt that your hair was suddenly shorter when you woke up this morning and…are those _bandages_?" His slight annoyance was fanned into true anger at the sight of the white gauze around her slender throat. "Meiling! Explain this at once!" He roared, turning to his cousin and pointing a hand at the offending fabric.

"I-it was-"Meiling began hesitantly, but her explanation was quickly interrupted.

"There you go again, blaming Meilin for _my_ actions!" Sakura snarled. "I am no shy flower; I was raised to be strong. I can take what ever you can dish out, so if you have a problem, try taking it up with me instead of bullying those who love you too well to fight back!" Though slightly taken aback, it didn't take Xiao Lang long to reclaim his anger and find a counter of his own.

"I asked Meiling because I at least know that what she tells me will be the truth! And as for being 'raised strong', I find that laughable. I've never met a woman who didn't blindly follow her emotions, and you seem to be exactly like the rest of them…or was crying for your mother in your sleep like a baby one of those times you were showing your strength?"

The blow came so hard and fast, the Prince thought he had gone momentarily blind. She had slapped him, and it left more than just his cheek stinging. She stood inches from him, a petite enraged volcano, mouthing words that she was too mad to voice. Her face was blotchy and her short hair was still sticking up in odd places from rolling on the ground, but he didn't care, because he could see the tears welling up in her eyes. The immense hurt lurking in the depths of those emeralds was enough to infuriate him more than anything else that had happened during this long struggle of a day.

He was mad at her for being a general pain in his side, mad at himself for bullying a girl, mad at his father…hell, he was just plain mad. And he had had enough of it. He couldn't tolerate her looking at him with those reproving eyes; she had to be stopped. His brain had switched to that of the warrior, pure instinct. No more words. No more thoughts. There was only time for actions. He crushed her to him with powerful hands and kissed her fiercely. The rest of the world vanished against those tender lips. It was meant as punishment, but for one brief insane instant, Xiao Lang swore he felt her kiss him back.


	7. Chapter 7

AN: An Early holiday present for all my readers! Thank you for your patience, and I am sorry this took so long.

Rated M! Mmmm!

Disclaimer: Characters are not mine! Don't try to take my money!

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Despite the fact that her country had been at war for as long as she could remember, Sakura had led a fairly sheltered life. She was fed fairytales and sugar-coated romances that had shaped her ideals about what love should be. She and Tomoyo had spent many an evening sighing together and planning every aspect of the perfect men who were surely coming to sweep them off their feet. This is how she knew without a doubt that her first kiss was going to be something soft and safe, like a warm blanket on a cold morning. So, it is no surprise that every fantasy she had ever imagined for herself was completely obliterated when Xiao Lang's mouth crashed roughly against her own.

It ripped the breath from her throat and roared through her veins, filling her to the brim with a strange and slowly burning ache. She knew she should be outraged, but somewhere in the rush of molten lava pouring through her, she could feel the open wounds in her heart cauterizing; stinging her sweetly and dragging her into oblivion. Lost within that blissful emptiness where neither pain nor truth could reach her, Sakura was finally at peace, and she melted into him gratefully.

Emboldened by her shy reciprocation, the pressure of the supple lips against her own increased and her mouth, slightly opened in a still born gasp, was invaded by his tongue. It slowly slid across the tip of hers in a gentle caress that seemed to beg her for something. Truth, acceptance, or possibly total submission; whatever it was that he wanted from her, the glowing fire in the pit of her belly demanded that she surrender it to him. Sakura was on the verge of softly moaning her consent, when Meiling's voice wrenched her back into reality.

"LI XIAO LANG!" His cousin roared, her face flushed with what was either an intense anger or severe embarrassment. The sound of her voice parted the newlyweds like Moses and the red sea. The boy in question blinked several times, his expression like one who was resurfacing from a deep ocean dive and still adjusting to the idea of air and sunlight.

"…what?" was the eloquent reply he managed to make after a few more moments of Meiling's extreme stare down. It was apparently not the response the girl had wanted to hear, because she was at his side faster than lightning, yanking him from his wife and dragging him away by the ear, muttering a string of profanities so low and fast that Sakura couldn't translate them.

If the Princess' brain had been functioning on a normal level, she would have found it highly amusing to watch the six foot-something man wincing and backpedalling as a girl who was at least a foot shorter ranted and tugged him along, but as it was, she could do little more than stare after them. Before the pair completely vanished into the foliage, her husband turned to look back at her, all traces of pain and surprise gone from his face. His features were set into the same unreadable mask that had always hid his thoughts from her, yet the look in his eyes was anything but stoic.

There was something soft and dark in those amber irises that pierced deep into her own, searching for something that could not be called by name. Sakura could feel her heart thundering against her ribcage as his eyes held her in an embrace far more intimate than the one she had just escaped from.

Then he turned and was gone, taking with him all the strength in her legs. Sakura crumpled softly to the forest floor, eyes still transfixed on the place he had been and feeling drained. It was like he had sapped the poison from her open wounds. Any thoughts she had were lost in a roar of blood through her heated veins, but she knew one thing for sure; those sunlit eyes had evaporated whatever she had been holding against him personally like snow in the summer. And for reasons she couldn't articulate, she just couldn't bring herself to hate him anymore.

Not to say that she suddenly saw his good points, or that she even particularly liked him now; it was going to take more than a rush of desire and a bold brush of tongue to convince her that he wasn't an arrogant chauvinistic bastard. But the way he spoke to her, openly and painfully blunt, had her thinking that Meiling was right about him being incapable of deception. And though she supposed he could have just been putting on some kind of elaborate act to fool her, the truth that lit those amber eyes could not be denied. Here was a man, who was just as confused and thrown off by this sudden marriage to his enemy as she was, and though he might be uncouth and somewhat unbearable, those orbs had begged for some kind of understanding, some sort of peace, and maybe she was going soft, or perhaps she was just tired of being upset all the time, but she had half a mind to indulge his request.

Releasing a breath she didn't realize she had been holding, a heavy sigh escaped her lips, as she finally gained some kind of control of her senses and took in her surroundings. The Prince's huge golden dog was still beside her, steadfast and sturdy, as if patiently awaiting her command.

"What just happened?" She asked him, while absentmindedly reaching out and curling her fingers into his thick yellow ruff. As if responding to her query, Kero turned towards her and firmly licked her from chin to forehead, sending the girl into a fit of sputters as she tried in vain to remove the saliva from her mouth and nose. After wiping her lips on her sleeve and spitting a few times in a very unladylike way, Sakura swiftly rose to her feet and brushed the dust from her clothing.

"Well, at least now I see where your master gets it from." She said huffily, giving the dog a look of mock anger. Cerberus' wide dark eyes stared up at her innocently; she couldn't stay mad at him if she tried. Sakura sighed in fake exasperation and tried to suppress a smile as she turned to leave the clearing, choosing the exact opposite direction that her spouse and his cousin had gone. She was defying him purely out of spite; she would show him that there was no need for her to have a babysitter! On top of that, the Princess was unsure if she could handle coherent speech around Xiao Lang right now, and she wasn't about to wait around for them to remember that she had been left alone just to find out. Her cheeks flushed prettily; she didn't _want_ to find out.

Cerberus rose soundlessly to his feet and softly padded after her, unwittingly providing the escort his master had demanded. The sun was now far past its peak, and the long trailing shadows of evening began to follow the pair deeper into the palace grounds. One was wonderfully content, confident in the knowledge that he was doing his duty by protecting something precious. The other poor soul felt as if everything she thought was built of stone had suddenly shifted into glass. And while glass could be lovely; it could also be fragile or brittle, and worst of all transparent.

As the rosy colors of twilight painted themselves across the sky, Sakura found herself at the edge of a lake. The view was breathtaking; the misty pinks and lavenders rippling and reflecting hazily in the waters along with distant snow-capped mountains and the thick blue-green trees lining the banks. As she was staring, a soft sound reached her ears. At first, she thought she had imagined it, for the gentle strumming perfectly echoed the tune of the water lapping quietly along the shore, but as she began walking again, the music became stronger and a small island with a red pavilion came into view. A long wooden bridge connected the gazebo to land, and as she rounded a bend, Sakura could see where it joined the coast.

The haunting notes pulled at her like the hands of ghosts, leading her out across the lake. Kero eyed the bridge warily and opted to stay on dry land, it was a little disconcerting to lose the calm presence at her side, but Sakura's courage was reinforced by the sounds of him snuffling through the bracken; she knew he would never leave her if there was any danger. The instrument's strings called to her in whispered voices, the words were indiscernible, but they were laced with a familiar tenderness. The farther across she went, the more hesitant her steps became. By the time she was three fourths of the way to the island, Sakura was moving as silently as a wraith herself.

The figure of a woman weaved itself into existence from the purple shadows inside the pavilion. She was sitting on one of the benches that lined the building with her back to the Princess. Her ebony hair was styled into an intricate conglomeration of braids and curls high on her head, with ornamental flowers made from shells and accented with silver and pearls glowing in the fires of the setting sun, and the excess locks tumbling over her shoulders and down her back in a midnight colored cloak. Long slender fingers delicately plucked the string instrument lying across her lap, hypnotizing Sakura with a practiced grace.

It was like stepping into a dream; everything seemed to slow and stretch. All she could see of the woman's face was a pale crescent moon of chin to forehead, but for reasons she couldn't fathom, Sakura had the strange sensation that if she could see that face, it would be that same comforting smile and those green eyes that looked so much like her own. Was this a song her mother used to play? Would the Queen's restless spirit follow the Princess here, to the land of their enemies, to ensure her daughter's safety? She didn't know, but there was definitely a part of her wishing for it to be true. In fact, she had become so focused on trying to force those thoughts into being, that she didn't even notice when the music had stopped.

"Do you play, Little Princess?" asked a deep smooth voice. Sakura nearly jumped out of her skin. The figure before her had yet to turn around but, there could be no doubt that this was the person who had addressed her. Flushed with embarrassment, the girl curiously approached the seated musician.

The woman seemed to have a strange sort of agelessness about her. Her alabaster skin was creamy perfection, her neck as slender and graceful as a crane's, and her face was a perfect oval shape with high elegant cheekbones and a delicate chin. But her eyes could swallow the whole of the universe and not be full. Beautifully dark and dangerous, those fathomless orbs pierced Sakura with a gaze that not only saw her, but _knew_ her with a single glance.

The Princess knew that she must be a member of the court, not only by the rich fabrics and gems that adorned her person, but by the way this woman held herself; she demanded respect. Nothing less would be tolerated. Regality practically oozed from her being, and Sakura felt gangly and awkward in comparison. And yet, there was no hint of malice, no sign of disapproval lurking in those earth colored irises; this alone gave the younger girl courage to speak.

"Yes," She said shyly. "I play an instrument very similar to this one, what is it called?"

"It is a guqin." The lady replied, running her fingers along the strings with a flawless ease which resulted in a happy reverberation of notes, as if the instrument was introducing itself. "I would be delighted to perform with you sometime."

"Oh no!" Sakura exclaimed, raising her hands and shaking her head in the negative. "I mean- That is- I was never any good! I would hate to ruin your beautiful music with the sounds of all my sour notes."

The lady's ruby tinted lips curved slightly as she said, "I have found, that when one is dissatisfied with their skills, practice does tend to make perfect." Sakura felt her face burn with humiliation.

"Well," She began hesitantly. "Everyone does tell me that I never spent enough time learning some of the nobler and more lady-like pursuits that I should have, but I _did_ try to excel at the yamatogoto. Mother was adamant that she would be the only one to teach me music, and she was always so busy…" She stopped as sadness crept into her voice and her gazed dropped to the floor.

"Ah yes," replied a voice that sounded just as sad as her own, "Dear, sweet, Nadeshiko. She did so love to sing…You must be missing her terribly." The only thing that stopped the tears burning behind the Princess' eyes was complete and total shock. "And my, don't you look just like her. Those eyes…you couldn't deny your linage if you wanted to." The lady continued in a whisper, her dark eyes not quite looking at Sakura, but past her, _through_ her, back to the memory of one who was lost to them both.

"Y-you knew her?" Sakura asked, fighting to control the quiver in her voice. The lady gave the Princess a lean smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"I did." She stated flatly, "We spent many hours of our youth in each other's company. In fact, this pavilion was one of her favorite places on the grounds. She spent many evenings here, "singing the moon down from the sky" Jian used to say…" She stopped abruptly, her lips pressed firmly into a thin blood-red line.

"You weren't friends?" Sakura asked, but she could feel the sudden shift into unpleasantness. The elegant woman had not so much a twitched a muscle in her face, but the girl could feel a cold distance rise up from her, as if to push her away. Dark infinite irises lowered their gaze, shyly concealing the truth that lurked there behind pale eyelids.

"I am sure you understand the complexities that come with the life of a woman born to privilege. The deceit, the secrets, the lies and scandals that run your every waking day…the jealousy… And if you don't know now, you will soon enough." Her voice was soft, but there was a definite edge to it, and it grated sharply as she heaved a sigh. "I was fond of Nadeshiko, in my way, and I am sorry she has passed away, but there were...circumstances which kept us from being true friends." She continued somewhat harshly, but Sakura's disheartened face was not lost on her companion.

"Do not look so sad Little Princess," The black-haired woman ordered gently, lifting the girl's chin with two long fingers. "Your mother was almost as fond of this palace as her own home, and there were many here whom she loved and loved her." A softer look warmed the lady's face at Sakura's startled expression. "Yes, though the world you have known has always taught you to think of Bai Hu as your bitter enemy, this was not always so. Nadeshiko's closest friend was born and raised here, and I have never seen two girls who were more in tune with each other's hearts."

"Who was she?" The princess whispered, breathless at the thought that part of her own mother was a stranger to her. The woman looked straight up into her eyes and fierce intensity burned through her for one terrifying instant as she felt the chill return between them.

"We called her Ye Hua. She was…Meiling's mother. As the daughter of a lower ranking nobleman, she never would have been at court nearly as often if it hadn't been for Nadeshiko's fondness of her," she seemed almost sad about it, but Sakura couldn't stifle her smile.

"No wonder Meilin and I were drawn to each other!" The girl beamed happily. "We were destined to be close, just as our mother's were. I thought that my mother would be sad that I came here, but I know that she would like me to be friends with the daughter of someone she cared for." The joyless crimson smile stretched across her companion's face once more.

"Speaking of children," She said, taking the Princess' hands in her own. "How did you enjoy your first night with my son?" Sakura could feel the heat radiating from her face as memories of a moist demanding mouth covering her own flashed through her mind. Just as quickly, the color drained from her cheeks as the meaning behind the woman's question sank in.

"Y-your son?" she gasped, horrified. The woman's smile broadened, gleaming in the waning sunlight.

"Of course." was the calm reply.

"T-that means…Queen Yelan?" the Princess managed to squeak out worriedly.

"Whom did you expect? …You don't remember me from last night?" the Queen asked, a dark brow arching quizzically.

"I met so many people at the wedding…and it was very…trying." Sakura fumbled uselessly, eyes downcast in shame.

"I'll admit; you did seem a little… distracted." Yelan conceded. She cupped the younger girls face in her white palms and ran her thumbs over her cheeks lightly. "I know you must be suffering. I would not hold the fact that you forgot one face of the hundreds you were introduced to last night against you." Sakura smiled, with tears glistening in the corners of her green eyes. She wiped at them with the back of her hand and sniffled a little before replying.

"What Meilin told me was true; you are very kind." She told her. The Queen rose silently to her feet in a single fluid movement, standing a full head taller than the Princess and staring with her deep mysterious eyes at Sakura's face, searching for something. Yelan raised her hand and swept the auburn bangs from the jade irises that whispered of ghosts and then lightly traced her fingers down the girl's right cheek; a show of motherly affection. The young Amaterisan pressed her eyelids shut and leaned into the cool fingertips, recalling the hands that had previously shown the same comfort with only the smallest hint of sadness.

"Have patience with Xiao Lang." Yelan said quietly, "His serious demeanor gives the appearance of strength…but he has always been a shy and awkward boy. He likes you, and he is not quite sure how to comport himself." Sakura flushed a dusky pink from the pit of her neck to the roots of her hair.

"_Likes_ me?" she blurted in disbelief, "What makes you think that?" Yelan chuckled softly.

"A mother knows her child." was all she the answer she gave. Then she turned, as if to leave, but suddenly seemed to think better of it as she faced Sakura once again and grasped her firmly by the wrist. "Never be alone with him." She whispered fiercely.

"Alone?" the Princess repeated tremulously.

The Queen nodded, "It is not safe." Seeing the look of panic and confusion on the young girls face, Yelan bent down and kissed her cheek softly; then turned and walked away without another word, fading noiselessly across the bridge and out into the lavender mists of early evening.


End file.
